


Getting Her Hands Dirty

by poetzproblem



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Grease Monkey Asami, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetzproblem/pseuds/poetzproblem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra lets the door swing completely open, crossing her arms with an adoring grin as she leans a shoulder against the doorframe for a moment and fully takes in the scene. There are all kinds of tools—most of which Korra doesn’t know the name or the purpose—spread out around Asami’s legs, and she can hear the clang of metal against metal even over the loud thrum of the radio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Her Hands Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Written for Skywarrior108 and unbetaed. My first (and probably only) attempt at Korrasami to let the plot bunny hop out of my head.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Legend of Korra_ or the characters, I just like to play with them...strictly non-profit.

The sun is still high in the sky over Republic City as Naga races over the newly rebuilt roads that lead to the Sato mansion with Korra on her back. The citizens have long since gotten used to the Avatar’s preferred method of travel, and Naga has gotten used to obeying the traffic laws—well, mostly—whenever she’s tasked with transporting Korra through the city. They occasionally get a few disgruntled yells when Naga’s paws come a little too close to something they shouldn’t, but those are nothing compared to the commotion that Korra causes whenever she attempts to drive a satomobile—no matter how many times Asami has tried to teach her.

The city is still an odd patchwork of war-torn buildings wrapped with spirit vines in the midst of being either demolished or renovated mixed with pristine, new structures being erected almost daily on the eastside where the bulk of the expansion is taking place. The spirit portal shines like a beacon in the center of the city, surrounded by a new spirit wild, and most of the residents who were evacuated during Kuvira’s invasion have slowly returned to resume their lives as the city continues to rebuild—bigger and stronger than before.

It’s been a rough few years for everyone, but it finally seems like the world is coming back into balance. There haven’t been any dark spirits or megalomaniacal extremists threatening to destroy the world in at least six months. Just politicians. Frankly, Korra thinks they’re almost as bad.

Ever since she and Asami had returned from their too-brief vacation into the spirit world, they’ve both been tied up in red-tape, constantly pulled in separate directions as Korra helps stabilize the new Earth Republic while Asami helms Future Industries in the enormous task of redesigning and reconstructing Republic City.  _Again_.

Korra still feels a little bit guilty about that, but Asami always just shrugs it off and reminds Korra that, “You’ve certainly been good for business,” with a teasing smile.

Korra has discovered that Asami is very good at teasing.

Despite their busy schedules and frequent separations, their relationship is as unbendable as platinum, and Korra falls a little more in love with her brilliant, gorgeous girlfriend every day. Katara once told her that friends make the very best lovers, but Korra hadn’t really understood at the time. Oh, she’d heard the words and understood the concept, but at seventeen, she’d craved passion and adventure, often at the expense of good judgment, and she’d been too young and inexperienced to appreciate what it means to have a true partner—someone willing and able to stand strong beside her in the chaos and still sit comfortably next to her in the quiet. Asami is that and so much more.

Korra grasps onto Naga’s soft fur as the polar bear dog tears around the corner and rambles up the driveway to the Sato Estate. Somehow, the grand mansion had survived the worst of Kuvira’s attack, suffering only some minor structural damage from falling debris—easily repaired in comparison to many of the other homes and buildings in the city. Naga slides to a stop, sending a cloud of dust into the air, and Korra gracefully jumps from her back, immediately moving to scratch beneath her chin, much to her companion’s delight.

“Good girl, Naga,” Korra coos. “You got us home in record time.”

Naga puffs up her chest in pride, letting out a soft bark, and her tail rhythmically thwacks against the ground. Korra laughs and reaches into her pocket to pull out a treat that Naga immediately steals out of her hand and practically swallows whole. “Sheesh. And people complain about my table manners.”

With one last rub to Naga’s snout, Korra pushes open the door and pads inside. Naga ambles in behind her, nails clicking on the floor as she cuts through the house on a direct path to the large backyard, no doubt intending to chase the rooster pigeons that always seem to congregate on the fence.  

Korra can hear the muffled strains of an upbeat jazz number drift into the foyer, and she catches her lower lip between her teeth to suppress her smile, shaking her head. She easily follows the sound deeper into the house and down the hallway, listening to the music grow louder as she approaches the heavy, wooden door that separates the main house from the massive garage. She twists the knob, ducks her head inside, and yeah—two very familiar legs covered in grease-stained, tan fabric peek out from under Asami’s newest turbo-charged toy, and one booted foot lightly taps along to the rhythm blasting from the radio.   

Korra lets the door swing completely open, crossing her arms with an adoring grin as she leans a shoulder against the doorframe for a moment and fully takes in the scene. There are all kinds of tools—most of which Korra doesn’t know the name or the purpose—spread out around Asami’s legs, and she can hear the clang of metal against metal even over the loud thrum of the radio. Korra can’t see her girlfriend’s face beneath the body of the satomobile, but she can perfectly picture the look of concentration that will most certainly be there; the absolute focus on whatever little machine bit she’s currently tinkering with. It’s almost like some weird form of techno-meditation that completely baffles Korra but seems to provide Asami with the same sense of calm and purpose that Korra finds with her own spiritual meditation.  

Korra could probably stand here for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening without Asami even realizing that she’s here, but that would completely defeat the purpose of her rushing over here to actually spend some precious time with her girlfriend. So she pushes off the doorframe and pads over to the radio where it sits on the nearby workbench, turning the volume down in slow increments. The clanging of metal pauses for a moment.

“Korra?” Asami questions softly.

“I hope you weren’t expecting someone else,” Korra responds with a fond grin, leaning back against the bench where she has an even better view of Asami’s legs. As much as she appreciates watching her girlfriend get all mechanical, this isn’t exactly the best position for her to greet any guests—or take out any unwanted intruders. Korra frowns at the thought, thinking maybe Asami should beef up the security around here.    

There’s an airy giggle before Asami answers, “Just my other lover.”

Korra feels a little fizz of jealousy in her stomach despite being certain—well,  _mostly_ certain—that Asami is only teasing her.  “You’d better be joking.”    

“You’re the only one for me, Korra,” Asami assures her sweetly.  “You know that.  Besides, when would I even find the time?” she wonders.  “Speaking of time, you’re back early.”

Korra’s brows furrow.  “Um. Not really. It’s already after noon.”

“Oh?  How did your meeting go?” Asami asks distractedly, still half-buried under the satomobile.

Korra sighs, slumping onto the stool next to the workbench. “You know Raiko. He won’t agree to anything unless there’s a dark spirit descending on the city or a giant mecha leveling buildings!”  She’d wasted an entire morning (that she could have spent in bed with Asami) trying to convince him to lend military support to the Earth Republic in their efforts to suppress the rebellions by those still loyal to Kuvira’s vision.   

“Mmm. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Asami murmurs.

“Are we talking about the same guy?” Korra asks incredulously.  Raiko will probably only come around when the rebel forces decide to finish what Kuvira had started and come after Republic City again.

Asami hums noncommittally beneath the scraping and scratching of metal, shortly followed by a loud clang and a disgruntled, “Shoot.”

Korra’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “What are you doing under there anyway?”

“Hmmm? Oh…I’m just streamlining the exhaust system to increase power to the engine.”

“Ooo-kay,” Korra drawls, having no clue what that actually means.  All she knows is that she’s home now, and Asami still seems more interested in that satomobile than she does in Korra. “Any idea when you’ll be done with that?”

“Just a few more minutes should do it…at least for now. Then I’ll be all yours,” Asami promises with a familiar purr in her voice.

Korra flushes with pleasure. “I like the sound of that.” She really likes having Asami all to herself, and she supposes she can manage to wait a few more minutes.

Hooking her boots against the bottom of the stool, Korra gently twists the seat from side to side as she watches Asami work—well, what she can see of her anyway. It’s really not very interesting, and she only has Asami’s pant-covered legs to ogle, so her attention begins to wander around the garage. Spinning the stool around, she takes in the workbench, trailing her eyes and then her fingers over the array of tools and bits of metal laying there. A grease-smudged sketch of some machine-y thing lays off to the side, and Korra eyes it critically, trying to figure out what it’s supposed to be before she gives up with a shrug. Whatever it is, she’s sure it will turn out to be amazing just like the rest of Asami’s designs and inventions.

Bored—she begins to fiddle with one of the small bits of metal, tossing it back and forth between her hands as she spins the stool back around. She knows not to mess around with the tools—Asami would kill her—but the little cylinder doesn’t look like it’s anything important, so she passes some time by bending it into odd little shapes.

“Hey, Asami?” she calls out.

“Hmm?”

“Are you finished yet?”

There’s another clang under the car. “Just another minute.”

Korra huffs. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” she mutters under her breath.

Asami doesn’t seem to hear her, and soon enough, Korra gets bored with the bit of metal she’s been playing with and reforms it one last time into a little heart before she tosses it back onto the workbench.  Asami is still completely engrossed with her repairs—or whatever.  Honestly, Korra is getting a little jealous of that car—it’s getting more of her girlfriend’s attention than she is!

Feeling suddenly mischievous, Korra decides to see just how absorbed Asami really is in her work and get in a little bending practice at the same time—she’s been trying to work more on her precision with every element in the last few months for those situations that require a more delicate touch. Asami seems pretty impressed with some of the things that she’s learned how to do with water, and Korra grins at the memory of her last ‘practice session’ in the bathtub.

Korra slips off the stool and sures up her stance, concentrating on the earth around the four tires of the satomobile as she carefully bends it upwards in slow increments. She keeps one eye on Asami’s legs, expecting her girlfriend to notice what she’s up to, but so far, Asami seems oblivious to the car gradually rising away from her.

Actually, Korra is pretty darned impressed with her skill—she’s never earthbent quite so smoothly before. She should totally try her hand at sculpting.  She’s certain she’d be better than Huan. Maybe she’ll bend a statue of Asami in the backyard to rival the one of herself that used to stand in Avatar Korra Park—before it got levelled, that is.

As the car inches ever upward, more and more of Asami comes into Korra’s view.  She can see the waistband of her pants riding low on her hips, revealing the enticing pale skin of her belly. She’s wearing a simple white, sleeveless shirt—also stained with grease and twisted tight over her breasts, and her strong, bare arms are flexed over her head with one skilled hand gripping a wrench. Her lower lip is caught between her teeth in an expression of rapt concentration.

Spirits!—she’s so freaking sexy!  Asami is always sexy, but there’s something about seeing her stripped down to her old work clothes and up to her elbows in some project that requires her to get her hands dirty that just  _does things_  to Korra.

Before Korra really knows what’s happening, Asami screeches in surprise as the satomobile flies upwards in a blur. Korra manages to keep the car from  _actually_  crashing into the ceiling—though it’s an uncomfortably close call. Luckily, it doesn’t come crashing back down either.     

“Korra! “ Asami shouts in exasperation, pushing her safety goggles to the top her of her head as she lifts herself up on her elbow to glare at her girlfriend.  

“Umm…sorry?” Korra apologizes meekly, helpless to look away from the enticing sight before her. Asami’s cheek is smeared with grease and tendrils of her hair are falling free from the loose ponytail she’s wearing.  So. Freaking. Sexy. “I kind of lost my focus,” she admits.

Asami’s scowl transforms into something closer to amused understanding as one dark eyebrow arches. She glances above her.  “At least you didn’t put it through the ceiling.” She brings her gaze back to Korra as she lays her wrench down with a quiet click. “You are going to bring it down nice and gently, right?” she prompts, pushing herself up into a sitting position but still leaning back with her palms pressed to the ground behind her.  

“Mmm…yeah,” Korra nods, eyes raking over her girlfriend’s body. “Gently,” she echoes, moving closer to Asami. “I’ll absolutely do that,” she promises, dropping to her knees in front of Asami and straddling her legs.  “Later,” she murmurs, slipping her arms around Asami’s waist and leaning in for a kiss.     

Asami laughs, just barely dodging her lips. “Korra, sweetie, I’m all dirty.”

“Mmm, so dirty,” Korra agrees breathlessly before she catches Asami’s mouth and finally claims her kiss. It’s like breathing—instinctual, compulsive, and absolutely essential to her very existence.  Whenever they touch, it feels like she’s bending all the elements at once.

Asami moans softly into the kiss and grows pliant in Korra’s embrace, curling her own arms around Korra’s shoulders as Korra urges her back down until she can lie on top of her.      

“I’m getting grease on you,” Asami warns her weakly between kisses.

“So not caring about that right now,” Korra mumbles against her lips. She can waterbend out any stains on her clothes, and the rest they can take care of later in that decadent bathtub upstairs.  Right now, she really wants to take care of her girlfriend.

She reluctantly pulls her mouth away from Asami’s lips, but only so she can give equal attention to the rest of her. She’s so beautiful, and not just her face or her body (though those are undeniably gorgeous) but her mind and her heart and just  _everything_  about her. Korra is so in love with her.  

Her fingers slip underneath the fabric of Asami’s top, pushing the material up as she traces patterns over the skin beneath. Asami sighs and sifts her fingers through Korra’s hair.  “Maybe we should take this up to the bedroom,” she suggests.  

Korra grins against her shoulder.  “Are you afraid your precious satomobiles will be jealous of how easily you can rev my engine?”

Asami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me anyway.”

Asami’s eyes go soft. “I love you  _every_  way, Korra.”

Korra’s heart swells in her chest. “I love you too,” she breathes reverently before she sets about showing Asami just how much—in intricate detail. They manage to steam up every single one of the windows on Asami’s satomobiles before they’re done, and even though they both get very, very dirty, neither of them minds one little bit.


End file.
